


Someone Died Here

by tofubbq



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Character Death, Coping, Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-02-26 11:09:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18715843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tofubbq/pseuds/tofubbq
Summary: A very short piece about dealing with loss. More or less a self-vent piece, to try and manage with personal feelings of my own.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A very short piece about dealing with loss. More or less a self-vent piece, to try and manage with personal feelings of my own.

If it wasn't for the pile of rocks that was dotted with recently picked wild flowers, the spot would go completely unnoticed. It was a small patch of dirt, way out in the grassy field. An incredibly, ordinary, overlooked patch of dirt. He often wondered if it was in any way representative of him. A particular unremarkable individual, that no one really remembered well.

It was an unfortunate accident, he recalled. The machine almost never had problems... In fact, this was the only time he had ever heard of it failing. Typically, when one of the mercenaries fell in battle, the machine would bring them back to life a short time later. Their bodies would be fully intact, and their wounds healed. But just this one time, it didn't work.

The Scout crouched down beside the pile of rocks. His hands were dirty and full of flowers he had gathered from the field that morning. He took care to arrange them amongst the rocks, displaying them in an appealing manner. He also removed the dried up, old flowers from before, tossing them aside into the grass. Once he was finished, he stepped back to look at it.

He didn't know the other Scout very well. It was strange, considering most of the others were loud and made themselves known on the battlefield. This one.. he didn't know this one. He might have talked to him once or twice, but never personally. He could hardly even recall his face all that well. He did recall his family.. or rather, lack of one. He remembered how odd it had felt after his death when nobody showed up to claim his belongings. Or to even claim him as a relative. 

It shouldn't have come to him as a shock, however. It wasn't unusual for the mercenaries to be on poor terms with their families, or not have any to begin with. It had been many years since the Scout himself had seen his own family. He found that he felt little sadness when he thought about them. Perhaps his own relations weren't the best with them either... 

Was that, perhaps, the reason why he returned often to visit the makeshift grave of the other Scout? Was it out of pity... or the vague feeling that, if it wasn't for him, perhaps nobody else would remember that he existed at all? Or was his family out there somewhere, pondering the whereabouts of their son, not knowing he would never come home? 

The wind was dying down, and the air felt stagnant around him. As he drew in a deep breath, the scent of grass entered his nostrils. 

Someone died here.


	2. Chapter 2

When he felt the gloved hand on his shoulder, the male immediately froze. Had he been carrying a weapon, he would've whirled around on the spot to meet his assailant. Come to think of it, why hadn't he brought one along with him? 

"Relax, I'm not here to kill you too." He recognized the voice.

"You-" The Scout finally turned around, his hands curling up into fists to defend himself. In front of him stood the enemy Spy, staring back at him calmly. No, he wasn't calm... there was a look of sadness in his eyes. The Spy let go of his shoulder, taking a step back to give him space.

"I was wondering when you'd take notice." The Spy continued, walking past him. He stopped in front of the pile of rocks that marked the grave, as if considering it silently. 

"How long have you been standing there for?" The Scout asked, his muscles still tensed. "Were you just gonna stand there the whole time watching me?"

"I can't say I'm too surprised, however. We tend to become oblivious to our surroundings when we're in grief." The Spy reached into his pocket, pulling out a white flower. "This here is a lily. It's a common flower for the recently deceased, because of the meanings associated with it." He placed it down on the grave, amongst the other flowers. "But if you ask me, there's not enough flowers in the world to properly describe a life. You'd sooner be running out of flowers and words."

"So... you're just here to see him as well?" The Scout raised a brow. His first reaction was that the Spy had come after him as an easy target, but now that he knew he wasn't an enemy... it almost made him feel at ease? He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"No, I'm here because of you." The Spy turned, shaking his head. His expression softened when he saw the younger male's eyes widen again. "Like I said, I don't mean you any harm. In fact, the very opposite of it." His gaze shifted back to the grave for a moment. "It wasn't easy for any of us on his team, I'm sure you know. It wasn't just losing a teammate, but also someone we had grown close to. Ever since then, it's been a lot more quiet back at the base. But that's enough about myself."

His hand moved back to the Scout's shoulder, patting it.

"I always saw you coming out here after battle, and you always return rather late at night. I've always noticed that you haven't been performing well, as if something's on your mind all the time. Of course, the rules state that we're enemies, and that we shouldn't even entertain the thought of communicating with one another... but it's obvious that you're hurting. I'm not offering to be your friend or support, but a reminder that you're not as alone as you think you are. I'm sure your team would be more than eager to help you through this, if you let them." 

He wasn't sure how long it was, but it felt like an eternity before the Spy finally left his side, disappearing into the cold night.

Someone died here.

He had started wondering if, perhaps, it was him who had died instead, but he felt more certain now. He just needed a bit of help to move again. 

The Scout took a step, then broke out into a run as he headed back to his base.


End file.
